My uncle saw a shrink once. They locked him up for setting fire to a barn. We never went to see him in the asylum, because Dad said crazy could be catching. Who knows? Maybe he was right. We really don't know anything about the human brain, do we?

Of course, Dad was also wrong about a whole lot of things. He told me I wouldn't grow up to be beautiful, but here I am, the toast of Hollywood. I'm tall, lean, but plump in all the right places, a captivating brunette with blue eyes. Dad thought I would be his knobby-kneed little farm girl forever, but he never knew how much I hated Kansas. Left when I was 16, and never looked back. Best decision I ever made.

Still, here I am, about to be "evaluated." Why? Just because a gal has a family history, that doesn't mean she's going to go out and torch the first barn she sees. I know it's really about my procedures, though. Terminate one too many pregnancies- one of them the result of an affair with Ira Browstein- and the studio ships you to the head doctor. They think those little white pills will cure whatever ails you. Well, let them think whatever they want. All I know is, it isn't going to be that easy. Not by a long shot.

"An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way."-Charles Bukowski